Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Okay, guys, here’s the latest. Between paying the car deductible to have it fixed and the house crap, we’re $300.00 short, which basically was because a girl said she could help us with that but then her car died so she needed it to fix her own car, and I get that completely. Eric’s hours have been cut to straight time, which means that his checks for 40 hours a week is around 800 (if that) for 2 weeks, which is why our budget is shot. So, if anyone can donate, even 25 bucks toward this last stretch? We’d appreciate it so much. It doesn’t sound like much, you know? And yet, we have to have the full amount or nothing at all, and we’re out of the house. So please, if you can … We’ve stretched as far as we can, we’ve borrowed as much as we can afford to pay back. This really is it, and I hate to ask because you’ve all done so much for us, but it’s just that last bit we don’t have …

Friday, July 20, 2018

It’s been a few days since the latest bit of stupid, so I feel calm enough to talk about it now. My neighbor who lives behind us (coincidentally, she and her husband like us; her mother uses to own our house, way back when) was telling me that she was talking to this other couple who kept driving around and finally stopped (she was working in their yard) to ask her which house was (ours) since “it was going up for auction” and she heard it was “an absolute steal!” from “her good friend, Marilyn”. No, no joke. I’m SERIOUS. Apparently, Marilyn knew the condition of this house when we bought it so she’d realized that it needed new everything downstairs (furnace, water heater, etc), so she knew that the house was “good to go”… I just … Really? I mean, really, really? How am I even supposed to FEEL about this? We’re fighting to keep our house, and she … No, she’s not in the least, interested in allowing us to get caught up or anything. Why would she be if she wants one of her buddies to live here? I’m just so MAD…

Thanks, you guys, we’re a lot closer to the goal, but we’d still welcome any help that anyone can afford. It looks like they’re cutting Eric’s OT hours already, so we’re already scraping, as it is. I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it is still a long way off, so help is still greatly appreciated. You’ve all humbled me and made me realize that there really is still good around, and for that—for keeping me from going crazy—I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

I’m posting again. I know, I’ve posted about this ad naseam, but as near as I can figure, we still have to come up with about 1500 to save the house, and we can come up with some of that, yes, but the rumor around Eric’s work is that, starting in August, hours are to be cut, and that will kill us: like KILL us, dead. Sure, we could let the car go back, and that would help, but we only HAVE one car, and, well, no car, no job. No job? We’re done.

I’ve been sitting here, trying to think and think and think, and there’s just really nothing–literally nothing. This whole thing has invated every aspect of my life. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t write, I can’t function. I spend every waking second, wondering if there’s anything I’ve missed. We’ve applied for loans and been denied (because they base it off of Eric’s STRAIGHT wages, even though his paystubs show overtime). We still have regular household bills to pay, too … I mean, we can’t just ignore the electricity or gas or anything like that. We’ve literally cut out every bit of extra spending, to the point where I feel GUILTY for spending more than 50 a week on groceries. For a family of four adults. I’d drop the cars to PLPD if that were an option for now. It’s not since our car and Alex’s car (that he pays for himself) are still financed.

Y’all, I’m done. Absolutely done. I have nothing. I have no pride anymore, no sense of what I should or should not be doing. I need to save our house. If we can’t afford to come up with this money, how on earth would we be able to pay rent? Not to mention my fur babies–the ones who cuddle me when I cry or when I’m lonely. I’ve been told that there’s an end to this tunnel, but I can’t see it. I’ve been told that we’ll save the house, but I don’t know how.

I’m asking. I’m begging. I’m literally left to this because it’s really all I have now. Please, please … Please, if you can, please help us.

If you can, our paypal address is sueric1111@gmail.com or you can use the donation button above.

To those who have helped, I love and thank you all. You really have no idea just how thankful I am for you!

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Hey, guys… just checking in. As near as we can figure, we can come up with about 1200 toward the 3500 we need to save the house. It’s the best we’re going to be able to do unless things change. It’d be better if the hubs were able to get overtime, but the company he works for was bought out last year, and they’ve limited overtime drastically. In doing so, it impacted our ability to get loans (we’ve tried), so help would be so, so appreciated. Between the crazy lady that pretty much runs the town and all of this, my stress level is through the roof, and it’s not as simple as, “Go get a job”… I have a severely autistic son who cannot be left alone as he has a secondary seizure disorder and he is, for the most part, non-verbal. If I were to try to leave him home alone, he’d either go wandering or he’d end up hurting himself. It’s just not a possibility. So, I’m asking. I’m begging. If you can help us, please consider doing so. To those couple who have donated? I appreciate it more than I think you’ll ever know. I’d love to be able to keep writing, and I’ve been trying, but it’s so difficult when so much other stuff is so heavy in my heart and in my head. TBH, I feel as though I’m about 2 steps from a nervous breakdown, but I’m trying my best to be positive. Thanks again, everyone. I <3 you all!

Monday, July 2, 2018

Hey guys. Just wanted to let you know that updates are going to be sporadic at best for a while. We’ve got major financial issues going on here, and at this point, I don’t even know if we’re going to have a home in two months. So, please bear with me. I’m doing what I can, but it’s just not okay. Sorry.

We have to come up with 3500 by Aug 30 or we lose our house, period. The town crazy lady “treasurer” has fucked us AGAIN, and we can’t do anything about it. She attached our property taxes with a back sewer bill that she says is accurate (but you know, we’ve lived here for 4 years exactly, and the first year’s bills were paid. 50 bucks a month x 12 months is 600, and so I’m not sure who does HER math, but there’s no arguing with her, either), and there’s no way to fight it. We have to come up with this by then or we’re homeless. I have tried to apply for loans, but they say we don’t make enough, “sorry” … All of this, after I went down and helped mom get her stuff straightened out after niece bled mom’s accounts dry, so in doing that, it maxed out our credit cards, so I can’t get it off there, either. I’m so done. I just really don’t know what to do now.

I’ve been asked to link my paypal address if anyone has it in their ability to help us. I just … I feel so freaking done. I can send images of the notices if anyone doesn’t believe me…

Anyway, if anyone can… paypal addy is sueric1111@gmail.com … I love y’all. I’m just not sure how I can do this at all.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Just wanted to let you all know that I’ll be offline as of Friday, most likely. Because of the stupid delays in getting Eric’s unemployment card, we don’t have enough to pay the internet bill, so it’s going to be shut off. I will be able to check a few things on my phone, but that’ll expire next week, too, which stinks.

In other weird news, we’ll be moving soon (across town lol) because my mom is worried that this house isn’t safe, so she bought another one for us (we have to pay her back when Eric’s job starts paying and we’ve gotten caught up). I don’t know if they’ll let us hook the electricity up, though, as we’re a month behind on that, too, but the house was cheap (foreclosure; she got it for next to nothing). Then she has to pay for a new furnace, sewer hookup, and a new water heater for it, which is why I can’t ask her to help us. I suspect she might have cashed in a few things to buy the house (it was cheap enough that she has to pay cash for it O.o). If I had the money, I’d knock this house down as it seems like one problem after another. The latest is that the well on this property is going dry, and we just don’t have enough money to dig a new one, either. (It was after a crying convo with Mom about this that she decided we just need to get into a new-to-us house)

Thanks to those who have helped us as well as those who have offered moral support and prayers via email. It means the world to us, truly, and please, please, if you can, please consider purchasing my e-books or even making a donation, if possible. Right now, it makes me angry to have to ask AGAIN because I keep telling myself that I CAN see the light at the end of this particular tunnel, but honestly … We have 178 due for auto insurance, 140 due for electric so we can actually move into the other house–both due before we can even apply for a lost unemployment card–and that’s not counting internet or phones that we can live without if need be. Please, if you can help, it would be appreciated more than you know…

Or log into paypal and click on the Send Money tab. My email is sueric1111@gmail.com

Monday, June 23, 2014

So figured I’d post an update to let everyone know how it’s going. We’re doing all right, all things considered. Eric started a new job, and so far, so good, so when things settle out again, I hope that everything will get back to a more normal state around here.

As some of you know, I started posting stories to a new archive, too, and it’s nice because you can download the stories in full in a few different formats, which is the best and easiest way to download the edited versions of stories I PDF’ed a long time ago as well as some I never have, like Chronicles, Meta, and Torrent. You can also comment there, so that’s pretty huge.

As some of you know, we’re also having a devil of a time in getting Eric’s unemployment card, too. They say we can’t ask for a new one till the other one is lost for 21 days (business days, that is), and at this point, we’re getting pretty desperate, and Eric won’t get paid for another couple weeks (2 week schedule, and he’s ended up mid-way so no check for nearly 3 weeks ugh). We applied for food stamps which is another joke, entirely. Indiana changed the rules so you have to have your prior employer fill out this paper thing that is hard to do when the place closed down, but they don’t want to hear it and just keep telling me they need this form filled out… Frustration is pretty common. We’re down to very little in the way of groceries, (we have some meat that a neighbor gave us lol and some dry goods given by a friend), but are out of basics like milk, etc, not to mention things that we just don’t have money for, like toilet paper (I know; I know …) If anyone can buy my ebooks or help us out in any other way, it’d be so greatly appreciated. We’re down to very little gas, and if I can’t get Eric to and from work, we’re going to have a whole bunch of other problems, not to mention bills coming due that we just don’t have the money for and stuff like that.

Any help at all would be a blessing. I hate to ask again, but I just sort of feel like we’re ALMOST there—almost …

Or log into paypal and click on the Send Money tab. My email is sueric1111@gmail.com

Valerie blinked and leaned forward in the salon chair to peer down the line at her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Bellaniece. “What do you mean?”

Bellaniece giggled, flicking up her claws as she examined the nail polish that had just been so carefully applied. “You’re actually allowing Evan to have a real bachelor party? I can’t decide if you have that much faith in him or if you’re just trying to give him enough rope to hang himself.”

“I have serious doubts that he needs that much rope, to start with,” Sierra Inutaisho remarked almost baldly despite the smile on her pretty face.

Unable to repress the slightly gloating smile that surfaced on her face, Valerie tried for an innocent expression though she had a feeling that no one was buying it. “Oh, I think he’ll behave himself,” she allowed somewhat dryly.

“Bassie’s the one who planned the party, so I wouldn’t think it’d get too out of hand,” Jillian commented, lifting a steamed towel off her face to peer out from under it. Then she giggled. “Well, maybe . . .”

Valerie didn’t comment right away, but she was hard pressed to keep her knowing grin from spreading. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Madison’s questioning gaze, and she purposefully ignored it as she accepted a glass of champagne from one of the technicians passing through.

“You know something, don’t you?” Madison asked in a hushed whisper.

“. . . Maybe,” Valerie admitted. “Let’s just say I have little doubt that Evan will have a very memorable night.”

Madison giggled but let it go for the moment.

“And this is just heaven,” Valerie went on, closing her eyes as she sank down a little lower in her seat. When Madison had suggested a spa-day for all the ladies, Valerie had jumped at the idea, and, though Madison had insisted that it would all be on the house, Valerie still stubbornly insisted upon paying her for it, instead.

At the moment, however, Madison was busying herself by giving Valerie’s mother the royal treatment, as it were. Hair trimmed, color refreshed, a full vitamin body wrap along with a chem-peel for her face, and it was absolutely amazing, how young she looked now. “Shouldn’t you be pampering yourself?” Rhonda asked, leaning back to raise her eyebrows at Madison.

Madison laughed and waved a dismissive hand. “I pamper myself all the time, and I love doing this!” she insisted. “And you are one hot mama!”

“You’d better call and make sure Daddy’s taken his medicine before he sees you,” Kaci Lea warned with a girlish little giggle. She’d already had her cut and color retouched, not that she’d really needed it, of course.

Rhonda laughed but couldn’t hide her blush at the compliments, either.

“So are you nervous, Valerie?” Samantha Drevin asked, leaning forward to peer down the line at the soon-to-be bride.

“Aw, don’t worry, Mama,” Jillian piped up with a bright smile. “You’ll have another baby soon, so not all your babies will be married, after all!”

Gin giggled, and for just a moment, a strange sort of expression seemed to flicker across her features, almost as though she wanted to say something, but she must have changed her mind because she smiled instead and shifted around in her seat a little.

“Gin? Are you all right?” Kagome asked, her brows drawing together as she carefully eyed her daughter.

Gin blinked and nodded quickly, her bright smile back in place once more. “Fine, Mama.”

Kagome didn’t look like she wasn’t buying Gin’s insistence. “Maybe we should go back home and let you lie down a bit.”

“No, I promise, everything’s fine,” Gin insisted, waving off her mother’s concern with a flick of her wrist. “Besides, I took an early nap at Cain’s insistence, so I’m good.”

Kagome didn’t look entirely convinced, but she slowly settled back in her chair once more.

“So where is Evan taking you on your honeymoon?” Evan’s aunt, Deirdre, better known as ‘Nezumi’, asked.

Heaving a sigh, Valerie rolled her eyes. “You know, he refuses to tell me?” she complained since she was getting a first-hand lesson as to just how stubborn Evan could actually be. She’d thought that she could get anything out of him—or she had until she’d discovered that he really had no intention at all in telling her just where they were planning on going after the wedding.

Valerie laughed since she had to agree with Madison. Knowing Evan, it probably would take some cajoling on her part if she hoped to see anything outside of the hotel, after all . . . Though, she had to admit, at least to herself, she didn’t think she’d have very many complaints, one way or another.

“But you’re going to be going on a good, long honeymoon, right? Or does he have too many other things lined up?” Kagura asked.

“Actually, no, he doesn’t. I’m not sure how long he wants to stay gone, but he did mention that it would be ‘a while’ . . .” Valerie glanced over at the woman who was currently leafing through the latest issue of Cosmopolitan. When they’d been introduced earlier, it had surprised Valerie that she had actually been a little in awe of that particular woman. Maybe it had something to do with her husband; Valerie wasn’t sure, but there was a certain presence about the both of them, almost a feeling of understated royalty—or at least, what Valerie imagined that meeting royalty in real life might feel like. But Kagura had smiled, and Sesshoumaru had assured her that he was pleased to see that Evan had finally found someone to spend his life with, and that had been enough to put Valerie completely at ease.

It was no small thing, really. To be honest, Evan’s entire family possessed that sort of aura, and if she hadn’t known already that there was something different about them, it would have been easy to guess. After all, it just wasn’t normal to see that many absolutely stunning people, was it? And not one of them looked to be the ages that she now knew they were.

Evan and the rest of his family had refrained from giving actual relationship statuses to the introductions when it came to meeting Valerie’s family, though. She had to wonder if the only reason they’d actually gotten away with it was simply because of the commotion that was surrounding these last couple days before the wedding, and it helped, she was sure, that the mansion was so full, so busy, that it was fairly simple to sidetrack conversations that might have led to the harder to answer questions, anyway. It wasn’t that Valerie didn’t want to tell her family about Evan’s, but . . .

But Samantha had no qualms in explaining things to Valerie—things that Evan had only brushed upon. It was Sami who had told Valerie the horrifying story of her initial meeting with her husband, Kurt. She’d told Valerie in such a matter-of-fact way about the atrocities that had been visited upon her when she’d spent time in a research facility, being tested because the human researchers had known that she was ‘different’. She’d told all of it to Valerie because she’d wanted her to understand why there was a slight rift still between her husband and her father, who still blamed Kurt for his involvement on some level, even if he was the one who had ultimately set her free, too. Samantha had felt bad because the tension had been noticeable enough, even if everyone else had tried that much harder to be cheerful and happy, as though they believed that they could compensate for it. It wasn’t that Kichiro had been openly hostile or anything, no, but maybe it was the overall happiness that seemed to engulf the entire estate that drew more attention to the strain. For his part, Kurt had been friendly, even if he was a little on the reserved side, and it hadn’t taken long for his dry sense of humor to show itself, either, and that was something that Valerie could appreciate. The rest of the family including Bellaniece were warm enough toward Kurt, though Valerie would be lying if she tried to say that she hadn’t noticed the slightly more reserved way that Bellaniece behaved around Kurt, either. It wasn’t unfriendly, it simply wasn’t as open as she normally was, either.

Samantha had also admitted, too, that Kurt had said that it might be better if he quietly ducked out of the celebration. After all, he couldn’t blame Samantha’s father for his feelings, either. Evan, however, wouldn’t hear of that, and, given that he’d already asked Kurt to be one of his groomsmen, then having to rearrange things would have just been harder than it already was.

After that talk, though, Valerie had understood, and even when Evan had asked her if she wanted to tell her family about him, she’d assured him that it wasn’t entirely necessary. Sure, she was certain that her family would be all right with the information in the end, but she couldn’t help feeling as though it wasn’t really her place to tell them, either. As much as she hated to think in terms of death or any of that, she knew her father’s life wasn’t something that could be measured in decades to come, and her mother? Rhonda might well be in much better health, but the fact remained that parents were just not supposed to outlive their children. No, the only real question was whether or not to tell Garret or Kaci Lea, and there would be time to decide that later, too, though Evan had said something that he’d meant as a joke, but it still remained in Valerie’s mind.

“Well, we could always try fixing them up with youkai. I mean, they might be human, but if they had youkai mates, then they’d stick around, too, wouldn’t they?” he said as they were getting ready for bed last night.

“You make that sound a lot easier than I imagine it really is,” Valerie replied.

Evan shrugged then grinned at her. “Never say never, baby.”

But that wasn’t really the issue at the moment, even if she did wonder in the back of her head about the feasibility of the offhanded comments that Evan had made. The initial bout of nerves she’d suffered before all the guests started to arrive had proven to be groundless. It both pleased as well as humbled her to see just how sweet, how accepting Evan’s entire family—direct and extended—were toward hers. The women had all been more than happy to befriend Valerie’s mother and sister, and Valerie had seen most of the men taking the time to meet and talk to both her father and brother, as well. After meeting the family as a whole, she figured she shouldn’t be at all surprised at how Evan had turned out . . .

Valerie’s cell phone buzzed on the small stand beside her, and she smiled when she saw who was calling. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your bachelor party, Roka?” she asked mildly.

Evan chuckled. “Sure, but I figured I had time to check in with you before that. Having a good time?”

“The best time,” she replied. “Forget the rest of the party, I think I’d rather just move in here.”

He heaved a melodramatic sigh. “All right; all right,” he agreed. “You ladies have fun. I miss you.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.” Ending the call, Valerie laughed again. She hadn’t really thought that he could be any goofier, and yet, there was something definitely lighter about his mood, if that were really possible. In the last few days since he’d finally had it out with Cain, he had been so much happier, more at peace with himself. Come to think of it, Cain seemed to be that way, too . . .

They’d gone out to celebrate Evan receiving his doctorate. They’d brought along Valerie’s family, as well, making it a family outing of sorts. It was too bad that Gavin and Jillian hadn’t been there, but they weren’t able to fly in until late last night. Bas had looked rather shocked at first, but he’d also said later that it wasn’t really surprising. Evan had always been smart like that. Gin couldn’t help but to get a little teary over it all—Valerie supposed that her emotions were pretty touchy, but they were happy tears, and that was all right, too.

It was hard to believe that the wedding was so close—the wedding that, at times, she hadn’t thought would be possible. All the plans were finalized, everything was ready for the big day. Now if Valerie could just remember to stop worrying about those details and to let herself enjoy the next couple days, she’d be home free . . .

-Evan-

“I can’t believe you brought me to a strip club!” Evan exclaimed as he slipped into a chair beside Bas, who was leaning heavily on the table, toying with a cold bottle of beer. “You rock, Bubby! I take back every shitty thing I ever said or thought about you!”

Bas rolled his eyes but chuckled. “Yeah, well, since it’s your bachelor party, I figured that you’d want to have it at the tackiest, seediest, nastiest place I could find.”

Evan laughed but didn’t disagree. “Did you check it out before tonight?”

Bas snorted. “Nope.” Then he grinned. “I had the groomsmen do it.”

He choked on a sip of beer since his groomsmen were Gavin and Kurt, the most unlikely pair, ever, and the idea of those two coming in here for any reason? Well, that really was damn funny, all things considered. “Bet that went over well,” Evan couldn’t resist adding.

Bas actually chuckled. “Their mates found it amusing enough,” he had to allow. “The girls said it was much worse than the other ones on the list, so I guess you could say that they’re the ones who had approved it.”

Evan’s grin widened. “Sami and Jilli? Those two scoped the places out?”

Bas offered a noncommittal shrug. “According to Gavin, the girls insisted on coming along. Apparently, they didn’t think Gav or Kurt would actually go in if they didn’t.” Slumping back in his chair with a thoughtful scowl, Bas shrugged. “They were probably right.”

Evan had to laugh since those two were currently sitting at a table as far back as possible with Sesshoumaru Inutaisho and Griffin Marin—all four of whom looked as though they’d rather be just about anywhere on earth than right where they were.

Grimacing when the music cranked a notch or two louder, announcing with the dimming of the house lights, the raising of the strobing spotlights above the stage that the real show was about to begin, Bas slowly shook his head and heaved an audible sigh.

“Kurt and Gavin said that you’re to blame for all of this,” Toga Inutaisho remarked, stopping beside the table to give Bas a very pointed look.

“If it were up to me, I’d have just had a football party or something,” Bas allowed, a slight grin surfacing on his features. “But it’s for him, so . . .”

Letting out a deep breath, Toga shook his head but chuckled. “Somehow, I feel that this has ‘disaster’ written all over it,” he added.

Evan grinned. “Aw, c’mon, Toga! You can’t really say that you wouldn’t enjoy watching Sierra if she wanted to put on a striptease for you.”

Toga’s answer to that was a terse grunt, and even in the dusky light of the club, Evan could make out the trace of red that had filtered into Toga’s cheeks.

“You’re bent,” Bas muttered as he tipped his beer to his lips.

“I have to say, I honestly didn’t think you had it in you to find a place this . . . interesting,” Kichiro remarked, slinging an arm around Toga’s shoulders.

“Interesting is a good way to put it . . . I suppose,” Toga grumbled, trying to duck away from Kichiro, who only tightened his grip on his cousin. “I feel like we’re all going to have to be fumigated before Gin allows any of us back into the mansion.”

“Well, Sydnie did say something like that, too, when I told her where we were going,” Bas admitted thoughtfully.

“Which reminds me: did you actually tell her what you were doing tonight?” Evan asked, raising a speculative eyebrow at his brother.

Bas snorted. “Yes, I did.”

“So how did you manage to make it out of the house?” Evan couldn’t resist asking since everyone knew about Sydnie’s legendary jealous streak when it came to Bas.

To his surprise, Bas broke into a somewhat smug kind of grin. “She was all right with it after I told her what was planned.”

Frowning at Bas’ almost cryptic wording, Evan turned his attention back to the stage, only to pull a classic double take moments before pinning Bas with a droll kind of expression that was completely ruined by the bark of laughter that quickly followed. “Oh, my God!” he exclaimed, smacking his hand down on the table in his complete amusement. “That is wrong beyond wrong!”

Bas grinned, too, but narrowed his eyes as he tried not to watch the spectacle unfolding on the stage where three transvestites were very happily doing their thing to the ungodly loud beat of the music. “You wanted strippers. You didn’t really say what kind of strippers . . .”

“Kami, I’ve been in some nasty-assed places before, but this . . .” Ryomaru Izayoi grumbled as he stomped over to his twin and cousin. “Are those . . .? Balls!” he exclaimed, the look on his face registering his abject disgust over what, exactly he was witnessing. “What the fuck . . .?”

Staring in complete and morbid fascination, Evan couldn’t help the idiotic grin that only widened. The tops had come off and there was jiggling a-plenty despite knowing that those three were most certainly male—even if the upper sections of their bodies didn’t resemble their male counterparts in the least. “I can’t believe you hired ladyboys!” he said, holding his hand up to summon a waitress. “Bring my brother another beer!” he insisted, waving a hand in Bas’ general direction. “Holy hell, Bubby! This is awesome!”

Dragging his gaze off of the strippers, Evan glanced over at Cain who did, indeed, have the weirdest expression on his face: a very odd mix of amusement and complete horror, like he was busy watching a train wreck full of circus clowns or something . . .

The overall effect was enough to send Evan into another bout of laughter, and Bas grimaced when the groom stuck his fingers into his mouth to unleash a loud, shrill whistle.

“Congratulations, Evan,” Morio Izayoi remarked, clapping Evan on the shoulder. “Can’t say your choice of bachelor party entertainment is my thing, but it’s nice to see that the bride to be . . . trusts you.”

Rising out of his chair to give his cousin a quick hug, Evan couldn’t help the cheesy grin on his face, either. “Morio! How was your flight?”

Morio chuckled. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mikio Izayoi said, nudging Morio out of the way with a wince. Paler than normal, almost peaked, the hanyou looked like he’d seen better days, and considering his balance problems tended to be exacerbated by flying, Evan figured that he probably didn’t feel any better than he looked at the moment.

“Yeah, but you always hate planes,” Morio replied. “Besides, how could you possibly say it was bad when you got phone numbers from two of the stewardesses?”

Mikio made a face as his cheeks reddened—about the only trace of healthy color in his features. “I didn’t ask for them; you did—and they’re probably fake, anyway,” he muttered.

Rolling his eyes at the added emphasis on the word ‘cute’, Mikio wrinkled his nose and opted to ignore Morio’s commentary instead. “I can’t stay,” he went on, turning to Evan once more, “I just wanted to stop in on the way out to the mansion.”

Evan nodded but then offered a nonchalant shrug. “Might want to rethink that,” he warned.

Mikio blinked, absently reaching up and fiddling with his twitching left ear. At this point, Evan had to wonder if it wasn’t more of a habit than anything else since he’d done it as long as Evan could remember. “What do you mean?”

Evan’s grin widened. “The women are supposed to be having V’s bachelorette party out there tonight—after they finished at the spa, anyway—so unless you want to be molested by all those women, you might wanna stay here.”

Mikio made a face. “The fact that I’m related to most of the women who would be at that party makes it all the more disturbing, don’t you think?”

Evan chuckled. “There’s that, too,” he allowed with an offhanded shrug. “Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, digging into his pocket and pulling out his wallet to hand over the keycard for the front door of his house. He never used it since the identilock only required his thumb print, but he carried around the card just in case. “Go on over to my place, if you want. There’s food in the fridge, booze in the bar, and you’re welcome to use the guest room. It’ll be nice and quiet, too, so feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Mikio agreed. “It’s not a problem, is it?”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Evan insisted.

Mikio didn’t look entirely convinced, but he finally nodded, taking Evan’s card with a rather wan smile. “Thanks. It’s just for tonight,” he explained quickly. “I’ll go over to the mansion in the morning.”

“Stay as long as you want,” Evan replied. “Besides, V was impressed when I told her that you’re an attorney, too.”

Mikio nodded, and Morio grinned. “I’ll take him over there. Don’t do anything fun without me!” Then he stopped to consider what he’d said and he shrugged. “Then again . . .”

Evan laughed and sat back down as Morio and Mikio headed for the exit, pausing here and there to greet their relatives in passing.

The stage music ended, and the strippers ran off the stage moments before the overhead lights brightened as the slightly lower in volume house music came up. Bas got to his feet and stepped around the table to grasp Evan’s shoulder as he turned him to face the rest of the guests. “On behalf of my brother, I wanted to thank you all for taking the time to celebrate Evan’s impending wedding,” Bas said, raising his voice to be heard over the low din. “Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t entirely sure that Evan would ever find a woman who was willing to put up with him, but I don’t mind admitting that I was wrong. Valerie’s a wonderful woman. In fact, she’s so wonderful that she even sent over a cake for you, Evan . . .”

Evan turned and glanced around, breaking into another goofy grin as a huge four layer cake was wheeled out of the back by the trio of strippers who hadn’t bothered to retrieve any of their discarded clothing. The tiers were lined with burning sparklers, and when they reached Evan, the ‘girls’ hurried over to make a show of kissing Evan’s cheeks in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible.

Bas reached over and handed Evan a blunt-edge cake knife.

“I am not entirely sure I want any of that,” Kurt remarked dryly as he stepped up beside the would-be groom.

Gavin flushed deep crimson when one of the strippers shot him a slow wink. “Makes me glad I didn’t have one of these parties,” he muttered.

“Cut the cake, Evan,” Gunnar remarked from his spot at the table beside Sesshoumaru who didn’t look uncomfortable, exactly, though he certainly didn’t look impressed.

Evan stepped over to the cake, narrowing his eyes as he considered exactly how he should cut into it. Before he could lower the knife, however, he jerked back as the top of the cake seemed to explode. “Ta-da-a-a!” Bugs exclaimed, throwing his hands high in the air as he burst out of the cake. Decked out in a fluffy little bunny costume, the rabbit youkai wiggled his fingers at the rockstar.

Evan laughed as he helped Bugs out of the cake. The rabbit leaned over and planted a loud kiss on Evan’s cheek before relinquishing his hold on him. “Surprise, Zel! You didn’t really think I’d miss a chance to be your bunny, now did you?”

“I thought you said you were boycotting the wedding!” Evan exclaimed, slipping an arm around Bugs.

“I was going to,” he allowed with an exaggerated pout. “But getting a chance to see all these fine men? Well, how could I possibly pass that up?” He spotted Gunnar and gave a jaunty wave. To Evan’s amusement, Gunnar actually nodded in acknowledgement of the greeting. Bugs heaved a very melodramatic sigh. “That one is just absolutely scrumptious, isn’t he? Melt-in-your-mouth good . . .”

“Looks like ol’ Gunnar’s in a pretty good mood,” Evan remarked. “Maybe you should go over there and say hi.”

Bugs giggled, waving a hand at Evan. “He’d never give me the time of day, Zel, and you know it’s true . . .” Trailing off as he seemed to be considering his options, Bug’s broke into a grin. “Then again, it doesn’t hurt to be friendly, now does it?”

“He’s not going to hit on Gunnar, is he?” Bas muttered as they watched the overzealous rabbit bound away.

Evan cleared his throat. “Oh, he might . . .”

Bas broke into the barest hint of a smile. “Is it bad that I kind of hope it does . . .?”

Evan chuckled. “Nope,” he allowed with a shrug. “I kind of hope he does myself . . . So V ordered the cake, did she?”

Offering a little shrug, Bas nodded. “She figured someone as bent as you are would enjoy it, yes.”

Digesting that in silence for a moment, Evan chuckled. “And here I was nice enough to hire a real stripper to show up at the mansion . . .”

Bas blinked and stared at Evan for several long moments. “You didn’t.”

His grin widened. “Oh, yep, I think I did . . . Calls himself John Long Dong. He’s not nearly as impressive as you are, though, but the odds of getting you to strip didn’t seem very good. Anyway, I figured the girls would get a kick out of him.”

“John Long—?” Cutting himself off abruptly, Bas slowly shook his head. “Only you, Evan,” he muttered, but he didn’t seem nearly as irritated as Evan suspected he’d be. Either way, he’d thought that it’d be good for a laugh. He only wished that he could see their faces when they answered the door and found Mr. Dong standing there, waiting to join the festivities . . .

Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters inSubterfuge): I do not claim any rights toInuYashaor the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

Monday, December 16, 2013

I hope the holiday season finds everyone well and healthy. Life around here has been one huge roller coaster this year with more downs, it seems sometimes, than ups. I mean, on the plus side, we were able to complete repairs on the house —thanks to the people who helped us get those done on time! You will forever be in my heart; I hope you all know that.

On the down side, my husband’s company had a meeting around Halloween and told everyone that things were ‘looking up, blah blah blah’, and then last week, another meeting to announce that they’re closing as of March 2014. It felt kind of like a kick in the gut, or maybe the very last indignity heaped upon an already craptastic year. My positivity at this point is shaky at best and barely hanging on, and it feels sometimes like the more I try to encourage others, the more my life seems to fall apart. At this point, I’m just trying to hold everything together for my husband’s sake. I mean, this isn’t his fault. He’s worked there for fifteen years now, and then this. It’s all so horrible, and I’m glad they’re giving everyone notice, but just before Christmas . . . well, it makes everything just a little harder to take. We already knew we had next to no money for Christmas, thanks to Eric’s lack of overtime. My kids are old enough to know that they won’t get a lot for Christmas, and they’re okay with that. They’re just happy to be with us, and I’m happy, too, and yet I can’t help but feel like that happiness is so very fragile, as though it’s teetering at the edge of a very thin blade and that happiness is a tightrope I’m walking. I feel like this is what I get for thinking that the worst was behind us because I know what the job market is like around here. It’s not good. We come from an industrial area, and yet all the industries are closing. Of the twenty factories that existed prior to the recession, only four remained. As of March, there will be three. People ask us, why don’t we move? It’s not as simple as that, either. As it is, we own our house: no rent, no mortgage, and if we can barely make it through as it is, then what hope do we have for a time when we won’t have an income to speak of (because unemployment is just not enough to make it.) Will Eric get a severance package? Sure, but not in the true sense of the term. He’ll get a very small amount for his fifteen years of dedicated employment, and all that will serve to do is screw with filing for unemployment and such because, as many know, even if you want food stamps, you have to starve for a good month before you can even qualify to get those, too.)

I feel like we’re at the very bottom of a glass cylinder that stretches up to the skies. There’s nothing to grab onto; there’s no hope at all. Eric doesn’t have his GED, and I tell him that he can get it—I mean, he kind of has to, all things considered, and yet, I worry about that, too. See, he was in a car accident when he was in high school, and it affected his short-term memory and still does. He has trouble remembering things, and if those things don’t interest him (like school work, for example) then he has even more trouble with it. When he dropped out of school, he was roughly three grades behind. He’s not stupid. He learns things through repetition and does a lot of note taking, but he’s scared it won’t be enough to help him get the GED, and I believe he can. At least, I hope he can since his ability to get another job depends upon it. As for me? I’ve been putting in my application everywhere, and nothing. Now, part of that, I know, is due to the fact that I haven’t worked since 2000. The rest of it? The biggest part of it? I’ll be honest here. I made some bad choices back then, and I got in trouble with the law. Where it used to ask on apps, “Have you been convicted of a felony in the past seven years?” it now asks, “Have you ever been convicted of a felony?”, and once they see the YES box checked, then you can forget about it. Yes, I realize that I made my own bad choices, and yes, I learned from my mistakes. Yes, I know that my inability to get a job is ultimately my own fault, and I take responsibility for that. But no where on those apps does it ask, have you learned your lesson? Do you understand the reasons behind your own actions? Can you be sure that you won’t repeat the same behavior again? Because I could answer all of those positively. I went to counseling. I learned things about myself that I didn’t know before—ugly things that I hadn’t wanted to know, and yet, I was able to deal with those same things and to grow from them. I know that people are allowed to make mistakes. I don’t think that they should be punished for them forever, but I am, and I know that it’s my own fault, but that doesn’t really help me feel better when I think, what the hell are we going to do?

As for my computer (which I’m not writing this from lol), I don’t currently have one. I have to borrow my kid’s computer because mine got dropped and pretty well shattered, which is the main reason I’m writing this now. I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to get another computer. At this point, it’s a frivolous thing that we just can’t afford. I just don’t know, so the reality of it is that all of my stories are going to be put on indefinite hiatus. I hope you understand. I hope to finish the stories one day, and I will check in as much as I can from my phone or on my kid’s computer. Just know that Evan and Valerie will get their happily ever after.

My wish for all of you is to be healthy and happy, to love and to laugh. The time I got to spend with all of you was truly a blessing to me and one that I will forever truly miss.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Kendall laughed softly, tearing off a bit of bread and tossing it into the pond. Almost instantly, the small flock of ducks zoomed in, fighting over it, only to voice their displeasure at the missed opportunity as they started to disburse. She repeated the process a few times, giggling quietly every time the fowl rushed in.

Leaning against a the gnarled, split trunk of an old river birch tree not far away, hands in his pockets, a lazy little grin gracing his features, Zain was content to watch her antics with the creatures.

She’d loved the idea, as they were walking rather aimlessly, when they’d passed a small park, and she had first noticed the ducks—loved it enough that she’d insisted upon running into a nearby bakery to buy a modest loaf of dense, dark bread. She wanted to buy a few of them, actually, but he had told her that one was plenty, hopefully not too much. Then again, quite a few more ducks had arrived shortly after the impromptu feeding had begun, so he wasn’t quite as worried about that as he had been, to start with . . .

Rolling his eyes, he uttered a terse snort at the very blatant jibe, but his smile didn’t falter. “You would feel bad if you overfed them,” he told her then nodded at the one little duck that kept bobbing around her feet. Every so often, it would grab the hem of her dress in its bill and give a little tug. “That one either wants to be your new best friend or it’s trying to decide whether or not your skirt needs salt.”

Resting her elbows on her knees, she twisted her legs to the side to better see the overly-friendly duck. It quacked rather loudly since her movement also yanked her clothes away from it just before it could grab it once more. “I don’t suppose he’d do well in an apartment, do you?”

“I think there is an ordinance against such things in the city,” he replied. “I’d have to look into it for you.”

She turned to smile at him, but it was more than that. There was a simple radiance about her. She seemed completely content, at least for the moment—a far cry from the woman he’d found earlier. Pushing herself to her feet, she wandered over to stand beside him, her gaze still fixed on the birds in the water. “So what’s next on the agenda, my lord?”

He snorted indelicately, casting her a marked scowl that she missed completely since she still had yet to look at him. “For you to stop calling me that,” he said.

She blinked and finally glanced at him. “Calling you, what?”

Shaking his head, he shrugged. “My lord. I told you already, Zain would be just fine. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

She giggled and fluttered a delicate hand in his direction as her gaze slipped back to the pond once more. “And I told you, that would be highly unseemly, my lord.”

He grunted. “Hmm. Let’s bargain, then, shall we?”

That got her attention quickly enough, and she turned to face him, arching an eyebrow in silent question.

“What about calling me by name when we’re alone—like we are now?”

She was going to flat-out refuse him. He could see it in her expression. When she opened her mouth to do so, however, he pressed his index finger against her lips. The flush that shot to the fore was entirely becoming, and she didn’t pull away from him.

Catching her chin with a crooked finger, Zain gently lifted it, made her meet his gaze once more. “Please,” he said one more time, his voice a near-whisper.

She swallowed hard, lips quivering slightly, blinking once, twice. Her eyelashes were incredibly long, fanning over her cheeks like the feathers of a bird—he hadn’t noticed that before, probably because those dark blue eyes of hers were so incredibly vivid that it was hard to notice anything else when she was looking directly at him.

The strangest urge to lean down and kiss her took hold of him, and Zain let his hand drop away before he gave in to it. After all, if she thought that calling him by name was untoward, he could only imagine what her reaction to that would be . . . Still, it was with great effort that he managed to step away from her, pretending to look out at the ducks once more, digging his hands deep into his pockets as he stifled a sigh.

She didn’t say anything for several moments, and when he dared peer back at her over his shoulder, he frowned. Eyes downcast, worrying at her lower lip as she clutched her purse tightly in her hands, he’d have to be a fool to miss her acute discomfort. “What would you like to do next?” he asked, letting the previous subject die.

“Oh,” she blurted, glancing at him and then quickly away once more. “Oh, um . . . Whatever you’d like . . .?”

He could kick himself. He really could. ‘Right back to square one . . .’

‘It’s not that bad. You just flustered her; that’s all.’

‘. . . Bad enough.’

“Y . . . You’re . . . angry,” she said with a grimace when he remained silent. “I-I should go home . . .”

“No, wait,” he hurried to say, lunging after her when she turned to leave. Catching her hand, he stayed her, only letting go when she stopped trying to get away. “That was my fault. I swear I’m not angry . . . I’m sorry.”

She didn’t look like she believed him, but she didn’t try to move away from him, either. “You’re sure you’re not angry?” she asked at length.

He nodded. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “So tell me, is there anything in particular you want to do?”

Though she seemed a little surprised by his question, she smiled rather tentatively. “Nothing especially,” she said with an offhanded shrug.

Zain heaved an exaggerated sigh and slowly shook his head. Stepping toward her once more, he reached out and took her hand, pulling her along beside him. “Come on,” he remarked, ambling toward the main path. “Let’s just walk then. We’ll figure out what you want to do as we go.”

She glanced up at him, her gaze still serious despite the small smile that touched her lips. “Is this how you usually do things? Just off the cuff?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Actually, no,” he admitted. “In fact, my best friend would probably be shocked if he knew about this.”

She digested that in silence for a moment then laughed. “So this is as foreign to you as it is to me.”

Nodding as he lifted his chin, as he stared up at the bright blue sky overhead, he gave her hand a little squeeze. “I guess there’s something to be said for spontaneity.”

“You think so?”

Another chuckle escaped him as he shot her a meaningful glance. “Yeah, I think I do.”

~*~*~*~

“You wanted to see me?”

Uriah Marner waved a hand in the vague direction of the chairs situated across from the broad mahogany desk but didn’t look up from the papers he was looking over. “Yes, yes . . . Sit.”

Settling into one of the straight-backed chairs, Will Marner slumped down, crossing his arms over his chest, letting his long legs sprawl out on the floor before him. As minutes ticked away, as his father seemed far more interested in whatever was on those papers than he was in telling William why he’d summoned him, he finally cleared his throat and sat up. “Would you rather that I come back later?”

Glancing up with a start, the bobcat-youkai seemed a little disoriented for all of three seconds before he brushed off Will’s question with a flick of his wrist. “Of course not. I don’t feel like waiting another week or more before you bother to show your face here again.”

Breaking into a rather devilish smile, Will chuckled since he did tend to ignore the missives demanding that he return home immediately. “Oh, was this something urgent?”

Frowning at his son’s flip response, Uriah stubbornly shook his head. “Any time I summon you home, it’s important,” he insisted.

Stifling a sigh, Will nodded dutifully. “Understood, Father,” he replied. “What is it you wished to discuss with me?”

Uriah reached for the black lacquered humidor that always sat upon his desktop, taking an inordinate amount of time in checking the hygrometer reading. Satisfied that the conditions inside the box were to his liking, he then proceeded to take his time in selecting one of his ungodly expensive Arturo Fuente cigars, cutting off the end and lighting it. Staring at the rising smoke, he savored the first few tokes off the stogy before he spoke. “I have arranged your marriage.”

Will blinked once, twice, and sat up a little straighter. “Come again?”

Shifting slightly in his seat, Will took a moment to measure his words. He’d rather begun to think that maybe his father was going to leave him alone on that store. He really should have known better. “This is . . . awfully sudden, isn’t it?” he finally asked.

“Sudden? You’re thirty-four years old, William. It’s high time you married and continued the line,” Uriah insisted. Then he smiled, looking for all the world like the cat that had eaten the proverbial canary. “She is the perfect match for you—and your marriage will strengthen our control here as well as extend our influence in the western district.”

“The western district,” Will echoed with a slow nod of understanding. “Then Farington’s daughter, you mean.”

“That fool was more than happy to jump at the chance to barter off his daughter,” Uriah went on, leaning back in his chair while he gloated. “After your wedding, it will be easy enough to simply get rid of Farington as well as that weakling son of his . . . You’re thought of highly enough that your appointment as the general of the western region would only be natural. Since I am still currently in charge here, then it would be simple enough to install you in the west, and then your brother can take over here when I’m ready to stand down.”

Staring at his father for long moments, Will said nothing as he contemplated his father’s plans. He knew what the ultimate goal was, and he knew that Uriah was willing to pay just about any price to see it to fruition. His father viewed the entire thing as little more than a poker game, really. But then, that’s how Uriah tended to view most things in life.

Will was not quite as relaxed about it all, which was neither here nor there. Apparently, his part to play was wholly different from what he’d originally thought . . .

“I told Farington that we would appreciate his cooperation to ensure that the wedding takes place as soon as possible. He didn’t see a problem with that,” Uriah went on as casually as though he were discussing the weather.

“And his daughter is in agreement?” Will asked.

Uriah shot his son a withering glower as he tapped his cigar against the crystal ashtray. “Who cares? She doesn’t really have a say in the matter, any more than you do.”

Pasting on a tight little smile, Will nodded once. “Of course,” he allowed. “Now, if that is all . . .?”

“Not quite,” Uriah said, waving at the chair once more when Will started to get to his feet. Smothering a sigh, he did as he was told, clasping his hands over his stomach as he slouched back once again. “Farington’s getting married next month—marrying his mistress, of all the outrageous things—and you will be invited.” Pausing for a pregnant second while he regarded his son carefully, Uriah narrowed his eyes just a little. “You will be there, William.”

“I’ll check my calendar,” Will replied.

Uriah pointed his cigar at him. “No, you will be there, and you will introduce yourself to your future wife, and if you’re smart, you’ll at least pretend to be interested in her.” Leaving that warning hanging in the air while he took another long drag off the cigar, Uriah suddenly chuckled dryly. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter, one way or the other. It’s simply to say that it’ll make dealing with her later that much simpler if you at least act personable.”

“Absolutely,” Will agreed, hauling himself out of the chair once more. This time, Uriah didn’t try to stop him. “As always, it’s been a pleasure, Father. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have dinner plans, and I don’t dare be late.”

“What kind of dinner plans, you miscreant?” Uriah demanded, rising to his feet in case he needed to detain Will.

Will chuckled since his father had every reason to worry on that score. Will wasn’t exactly known for his discretion when it came to the company he kept. Tying himself down to one woman when there were so many to choose from? He wasn’t entirely sure he liked that idea, at all. “Don’t be so eager to hang me,” he complained. “It just so happens that Elizabeth is back from Chicago, and she begged me to meet her for dinner.”

Uriah grunted at the mention of his daughter, but at least he seemed to relax slightly. “Ah, then so be it,” he muttered as he turned toward the windows overlooking the well-manicured garden of the Marner estate. “I will send you the information regarding Farington’s wedding in the next few days.”

Will bowed slightly and finally turned to leave the room.

‘Crazy old man,’ he thought as he closed the door behind him and strode down the hall. As dark and foreboding as ever, the place was. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever really felt at home here, and now was no different. An arranged marriage to a girl he’d never even laid eyes on before? Somehow, it felt more like a surefire recipe for imminent disaster . . .

Well, he supposed that if it came down to it, he could always have his mistresses on the side. He may have to be a bit more careful about being seen in public with them, but that was all right, too. The only real objection he had was simply that women tended to complicate things more than was necessary.

So the time was approaching.

Tensions were high, and he knew that. The pseudo-competition that existed between the regions for supremacy was always something that had existed through generations. It all amounted to little more than the manipulation of pawns on a chessboard, as it were, and his father was not above using him as one of those pawns, either, but that was something to which Will had grown quite accustomed over the years.

Uriah Marner tended to be a better player than most, though. At a point in time when the current tai-youkai’s habit of looking the other way while leaving his followers to work out their own issues, the Third’s complacency only served to further Uriah’s ultimate plan.

But to target Titus Farington in such a way? The man was formidable in his own right—not surprising since the western region tended to be a lot more rough-and-tumble than the other districts. In order for the reigning general to keep order, he had to be strong. Still . . .

Will had to admit, he hadn’t seen that one coming; not at all . . .

~*~*~*~

“Are you all right now?”

Kendall made a face and shook her head at Zain, who had his eyes closed, head tilted back as he reclined on the grass, propped up on his elbows. The effect was lost since he couldn’t see her, so she smiled wanly. It had occurred to her that he was probably ruining his perfectly pressed white dress shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind, and she had to wonder if he ever wore anything a little more casual since all she had ever seen him wear was relatively formal attire. Not that he looked bad in the black slacks he seemed to favor, but she had very little doubt that a worn pair of jeans would do him justice, as well . . .

“You’re not still feeling out of sorts, are you?” he continued as the slight breeze stirred the long strands of his pitch black hair. Falling to the middle of his lower back, his hair looked like it had never been cut before, which was a rather archaic thing. Though youkai tended to wear their hair long in the past, in more recent times, they had given into the style trends more, and most men these days tended to wear their hair much shorter. Somehow, though, the long hair seemed much more natural on him.

“My stomach has settled down,” she assured him, sounding a little more petulant than she might have preferred otherwise.

He chuckled. It was a very nice sound, full of warmth, of a kind of unspoken emotion that bordered on a certain intimacy that Kendall didn’t dare dwell upon. “I warned you that you shouldn’t eat that entire pretzel by yourself,” he reminded her.

Wrinkling her nose at the hint of gloating in his tone, she still couldn’t help but to smile. “It was really good,” she pointed out without sounding sorry in the least for the impromptu rest that he had decided was in order when she’d started to feel a little queasy. Still, she couldn’t complain. The pretzel he’d bought her from a vendor cart just inside the large park was really good, even if it had been coated with a little more salt than it needed.

The mustard dipping sauce was very tasty, too.

“You wouldn’t have thought so if you had gotten sick,” he told her. “I thought you were going to share it.”

Rolling her eyes, Kendall giggled. “After you made that horrible face when I ripped off some of it for you?”

“I didn’t make a face about the pretzel. I was just horrified by the huge mass of it that you’d shoved into your mouth right before that.”

Which made her giggle harder. That was true enough. Her first bite had been incredibly large . . . “A gentleman would try to ignore a lady’s more embarrassing moments,” she told him, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt in an idle kind of way.

“A lady wouldn’t try to shove a piece of anything into her mouth that was big enough to choke a horse,” he retorted.

“I don’t think you’re nearly as nice as I thought you were when I first met you,” she told him.

He leaned his head back a little more, opening his eyes and gazing at her, which was probably a little odd, given that he was seeing her from an upside down perspective. “You’re right,” he allowed simply. “I’m not actually ‘nice’.”

“You sent me flowers,” she reminded him.

“I had ulterior motives for that.”

“Oh? What kind of ulterior motives?”

He chuckled again. “I wanted to hear you play for me again, of course.”

“O-Oh,” she breathed, lowering her gaze to her lap quickly. He’d said it in a teasing tone, sure, but . . . But was that it? Was that the only reason?

A sudden rush of nerves crashed down on her, and Kendall ducked her chin a little lower, pretended to be examining her manicure.

“Okay,” he said, his tone taking on a much gentler note. “I said something to upset you, didn’t I?”

“No,” she blurted, forcing herself to meet his gaze again, forcing a smile that she hoped wasn’t nearly as artificial as it felt. “Of course not.”

Sitting up, hooking his arms around his knees, Zain shook his head. “You can tell me if something’s bothering you,” he said. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you would.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “It’s just . . . was that the reason you’ve been so nice to me? To hear me play piano?”

He didn’t move for a few moments, and then he stood up, wandering over to her, sitting beside her on the weathered wooden bench. “I want to say yes,” he admitted, his expression taking on an almost chagrined kind of slant. “But no, that wasn’t the only reason . . . and I swear I told you already that I’m not really ‘nice’.”

‘Not the only reason . . .?’ She smiled a little hesitantly. “What are you, then, if you’re not nice?”

A thoughtful frown drew his eyebrows together, and he stared at her before answering. “A tai-youkai isn’t allowed the convenience of being nice,” he told her. “At least, that’s what they’ve always said.” He shook his head and suddenly chuckled, but the sound was touched by the barest hint of something a little darker, a little weary, almost pathetic, but that word didn’t quite suit him. “I used to get lectured a lot because I didn’t see challenges through properly, or so they said. They always told me that I was being nice, but that really wasn’t the case. It just seemed . . . pointless, I guess. Why kill off someone over some trivial adolescent argument just because someone gets hotheaded enough to use the word ‘challenge’?”

She thought about that. Sure, she realized that children were taught early on that using the word ‘challenge’ was a grave thing, something not meant to be taken lightly, but then, Zain made a valid point, too, didn’t he? Even if the word was used, did someone that age really understand the consequences? Considering that youkai could easily live hundreds of years at a stretch, the very idea of death was somewhat abstract to many teenagers who had never actually had to deal with someone close to them dying.

And Zain understood that on some level, didn’t he? Maybe he claimed that it wasn’t kindness, but she wasn’t so sure. Aloof, yes. Possessing that innate sense of self-worth that only someone highly privileged from birth could attain, certainly. Still, she could sense it, the feeling that he had been brought up with as many rules as she had, as many restrictions on his freedom as she had. His rules were vastly different from her own, and that she could understand, but fundamentally, the end result was still the same, wasn’t it? Perhaps his life really wasn’t as different from her own.

“So you’ve never killed anyone who has challenged you?”

The smile that touched his lips was more of a grimace, almost apologetic—not quite, though. “I never killed anyone while I was still in school,” he corrected. “The first real challenge I was issued came when I was in college, my last year: a wind youkai who wanted to put an end to the Jericho line, and he thought he would start with me.”

Kendall frowned, staring down at her hands, folded in her lap. What would it be like to have to live your life, worrying that someone, somewhere was going to challenge you to a fight to the death; not because you had done anything to them personally, but just because they were displeased with the way that things were handled by the tai-youkai . . .? She couldn’t image it. “But you don’t get challenged a lot, do you?”

He shrugged. “No, not really. Twice so far.” He must have seen the distress on her features because he sighed and shook his head. “It happens. It’s just how things are.”

She knew that. Of course, she did. That didn’t make her feel any better about it, but she wasn’t a child, and even if she didn’t like to dwell upon the darker things in the world, she knew of them. “It just seems like a harsh thing to live with,” she said.

“Maybe if I did nothing but think about it,” he agreed. “I prefer not to. There are much more interesting things to think about; things that I’d much rather my time considering. You, for example.”

He’d said it so off-the-cuff that it took Kendall a few seconds to realize just what he’d said, and when she glanced at him, it was to find him staring up at the sky again, eyes bright but no trace of anything readable on his face. “Think about . . . me?” she asked hesitantly.

He finally smiled his little half-smile that she was coming to know so well. “Does that bother you?”

Biting her lip, Kendall broke into a little grin as a light flush dusted her cheeks, as she ducked her chin once more while she tried to remember that she really needed to breathe. “N . . . No,” she finally whispered.

“Good,” he said. She could feel his gaze on her though he hadn’t moved his head. “You could, too, if you wanted.”

She giggled, stealing a sidelong glance at him, only to blush a little darker when she caught him staring at her in much the same way. “What could I do?”

He chuckled. “Spend your time considering me.”

“Could I?”

The laughter died away, but he still seemed amused. “Yes. In fact, I think you should.”